


For Want of a Wolf...

by Arbryna



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: 3x03 Confaegion, Episode Remix, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Dyson hadn't been infected with that nymphoid parasite? Bo and Tamsin have some bonding time, teenager-style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Want of a Wolf...

_Pop!_

Trick pops the lid off of the beer, slides it across the bar to her with a barely civil nod. Tamsin smirks and raises it to her lips, savoring the cool crisp bite as it slides down her throat. He doesn't like her. No big surprise, considering she's intent on putting his precious succu-grandbaby behind bars. It's also not her problem. 

Rolling her eyes, Tamsin spins on her stool, leaning back with one elbow against the bar as she surveys the room. The place is busy, for the middle of the afternoon, but there's no one that really jumps out as a particularly good candidate for a round between the sheets—or in the back room, or in the alley outside, whatever. She's not picky, at least not about venue. 

Joy. Looks like she's doomed to an afternoon of buddying up to her new partner. If he ever gets out of the bathroom, that is. She takes another swig of her beer, then almost chokes on it when a familiar figure walks in and scans the room. She groans and turns back to the bar. Maybe if she pretends hard enough to be invisible the bitch will go away.

Or maybe not. Bo makes a beeline for the bar, sparing Tamsin a withering glare before curling her hands over the polished wood. 

"Trick, have you seen Dyson?" She's practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, her shoulders hunched up with nervous excitement. 

Tamsin rolls her eyes and answers before Trick gets a chance. "He's in the bathroom. Don't get your panties in a twist."

"I wasn't asking _you_ ," Bo huffs, glowering. "And for your information, I am not wearing any," she finishes with a superior toss of her head.

 _TMI much_? "Uh, thanks for sharing." Tamsin eyes Bo with a wary disdain usually reserved for mental patients. Screw this. She can wait for Dyson by the pool table. 

"Wait!" Bo's hand clamps around Tamsin's wrist before she can escape. "Can I ask you something?"

Tamsin raises her eyebrow at Bo's hand until Bo gets the message and retracts it. An aggrieved sigh falls heavy from her lips. "Does it matter if I say no?"

"You're around Dyson a lot," Bo continues, like Tamsin never even said anything. She bites her lip. "Do you think he likes me?"

" _Likes_ you? What are you, twelve?" Seriously, this giddy adolescent thing she's got going on is starting to creep Tamsin out. 

Bo rolls her eyes. "Just…yes or no? Does he ever talk about me?"

Trick chooses now to chime in, leaning over the bar with a concerned frown. "Bo, are you feeling all right? You don't seem like yourself." 

At least Tamsin isn't the only one who's noticed. "Not that I care, but I think Gramps has a point. You're not usually _this_ annoying." 

The words fall on deaf ears; Bo's eyes are fixed on something beyond Tamsin's shoulder, a devious smile painting her lips. "Fine, don't tell me. I'll ask him myself."

Tamsin turns to see Dyson emerging from the hallway that houses the restrooms. She reaches out to grab Bo's bicep, yanking her back. "Not so fast, succubitch. I am not going to put up with him whining through the rest of our game. You just stay here and have a Shirley Temple or something." She pats Bo's shoulder, intending to head Dyson off before he can make it to the bar, but she can't resist a parting shot. Her fingers dig into Bo's skin as she leans in close, her breath brushing against Bo's cheek. "And by the way, if you're shooting for an insanity plea, keep it up. You're doing _great_." 

 

Bo scowls as Tamsin saunters away, grabbing Dyson's arm and steering him toward the pool table—and away from Bo. Well, there goes that idea. She could still _try_ to pull Dyson away, but that would just be awkward and what if he doesn't even _like_ her, and what would he think of her just walking up and pulling him away from what he's doing? Her stomach lurches nervously. 

A flash of honey-blonde hair draws Bo's attention away from the pool table. A smile tugs at her lips. Lauren is smart—maybe she can help.

"Lauren!" Bo calls, rushing forward to grab both of Lauren's hands. In a quieter tone, she asks, "do you think he likes me?"

Lauren blinks, taken aback by Bo's enthusiasm. Her forehead creases. "Who?"

Bo rolls her eyes. "Duh, Dyson!" 

Hurt flashes through Lauren's eyes. That's weird. Does Lauren like Dyson too? "Um, Bo, what—what are you—"

Nah, Lauren couldn't like Dyson. No way. Bo glances over where he's readying a shot and feels a little flutter in her chest. She gnaws at her lip, screwing up her confidence. "I think he does. Maybe I'll just kiss him and see what happens." 

Before Bo can put her plan into action, Lauren stops her, pressing the back of her fingers to Bo's forehead. "Bo, I think we should go back to my lab. I want to run a few tests."

Bo scrunches her nose at the thought. "Ugh, I _hate_ tests."

 

Tamsin rubs at her ear and frowns. It feels weird, itchy. Could be the beginning of an ear infection. Great, just what she needs. 

Her spirits are lifted a bit when she sees the blonde doc dragging Bo out of the bar like a misbehaving child. She smiles brightly, flutters her fingers toward Bo in a mocking little wave. Bo's answering scowl and glare make her forget all about her ear. 

"Whaddya say, Wolfboy?" Tamsin asks, turning back to the freshly-racked pool table. "Ready to get your ass kicked again?"

He chuckles, rolling his cue between his fingers. A competitive gleam flashes in his eyes. "We'll see about that."

***

A sly smile pulls at Tamsin's mouth as she grips the pool cue in both of her hands, watching Dyson take his shot. He would freak out if she told him Bo might be into him. It could be funny…but it's kind of fun knowing something he doesn't, too. She could hold it over his head, see how long it takes for him to go crazy and beg her to tell him.

"Tamsin."

She blinks, shakes her head. Did he call her name more than once? The expectant look on his face says he probably did. Her smile widens. "I know a secret."

The corners of Dyson's mouth quirk up a little. "Really." 

"Uh huh." Tamsin nods. "But I shouldn't tell you." 

Dyson glances toward her mostly-empty beer sitting on the edge of the pool table, then eyes her skeptically. "Okay…then don't." 

"I think you wanna know this one though," she sing-songs, idly swaying her pool cue.

"Then tell me."

"Can't," Tamsin teases. "It's a secret." 

His eyebrows knit together as he shakes his head. "Whatever Tams, just take your shot." 

Yeah, he's totally hooked.

***

" _Cinq_!"

Tamsin's not sure why Bo is counting loudly in French. It's definitely weird. Still, there's something about her that just seems really… _cool_. Tamsin doesn't really want to look away, but then Bo catches her staring and glares, spins her stool back around as she continues to count.

"She doesn't like me, does she?" Tamsin asks sullenly, swinging her feet from her perch on the edge of the pool table.

"Uh…who are we talking about now?" Dyson asks, rubbing more chalk onto his cue.

"Bo," Tamsin huffs. God, he's so dense. 

He chuckles. "What do you care? You hate Bo."

"No I don't!" Tamsin jumps down to the floor, grabs his shoulder. "Oh my god, did you tell her that?" 

Dyson glances toward the bar, where Bo is now dancing to a Pussycat Dolls song while the other patrons look up and cheer her on. When he turns back to Tamsin, he looks like he's finally taking her seriously. 

"Hey!" Tamsin protests as Dyson grabs her arm, dragging her toward the bar. She fights him the whole way, but he's, like, crazy strong. 

"I'm guessing there's something up with Bo." Dyson directs his words to Lauren and Trick, completely ignoring Tamsin's attempts to free herself. Rude much?

Lauren nods, raking her hair back over her head. "Yeah, we're trying to figure it out—" She stops abruptly, eyes darting to Tamsin. "Wait, why?"

Dyson looks grim. "Whatever it is, I think Tamsin's got it too."

***

"So…" Tamsin trails off with a shrug. It's weird being alone with Bo in her bedroom; something inside her says maybe she shouldn't be here, but she can't really imagine why not.

"So," Bo echoes. At least she looks just as awkward, leaning stiffly against the foot of her bed. 

Tamsin turns away from Bo, idly bumping her fist into her open palm as she really looks at the room. It's a little run-down, sure, a little dusty, but that just seems to add to the almost creepy vibe. It's like something from a gothic Victorian fantasy or something. "Dude, your bedroom is like, super cool." 

"You think so? I feel like it could use more color," Bo says, leaning back to survey the room herself. "Maybe a few posters or some—oof!" 

A loud snort escapes before Tamsin can stop it; Bo has leaned too far and fallen back onto her bed, her knees hanging over the edge of the frame. Laughter racks Tamsin's shoulders as she covers her mouth with her hand. Bo joins her within moments, her face flushing with both embarrassment and mirth. 

When she can breathe again, Tamsin wipes tears from the corners of her eyes. It doesn't seem as awkward anymore, now that they've shared a good laugh. "Nah, I think posters would just ruin it," she offers, examining the furniture as she wanders aimlessly. "You've got an awesome like, derelict-chic thing going on." 

"If you say so." Bo reaches between her knees to pull herself up by the bed frame. "You don't think it's too boring?" 

Tamsin shakes her head as she continues her exploration. "Not at all. It's really—ooh, what is this?" She stops in front of a standing case that's partially open, light glinting off of something shiny and metal inside. She pulls it open further to find it full of _weapons_. How awesome is that? She pulls out a sword and holds it up in front of her face. "Dude. This is badass. Are these real?" 

She quickly finds out just how real they are when the edge bites into the skin of her finger. Jerking back, she lets out a small cry of shock and pain (mostly shock) and pulls the digit into her mouth. 

Bo is up and at her side in an instant, pulling at her arm so she can examine the injury herself. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

"Yeah, not even bleeding." Tamsin holds her finger up as proof. There's a small, shallow break in the skin, but it's not deep enough to draw blood. "I guess that answers my question." 

The sword hangs forgotten in Tamsin's other hand as she becomes aware of Bo's hand curled warm around her wrist, Bo's arm pressed casually against her own. Something flips in her stomach, but before she can make sense of the feeling, heavy footsteps pound up the stairs and into the room.

"Yo, peeps!" Kenzi pants, catching her breath as Lauren rushes in after her. "We are under attack."

Tamsin rolls her eyes, waves her not-so-injured finger in the air. "Big whoop." 

Bo laughs and leans heavily against Tamsin; Lauren and Kenzi continue to talk, but all Tamsin can think about is Bo's arm brushing against her breast and the weird tingles it's sending down her spine. After a couple of moments, Bo tilts her head, her breath hot and moist in Tamsin's ear. 

"Kenzi's got a big stick," Bo snickers. Tamsin looks at the—well, at the big stick—in Kenzi's hands and bursts out laughing. 

The sword clatters to the ground as Tamsin and Bo lean against one another clutching their stomachs. Tamsin's laughing so hard it hurts—or maybe that's hunger. She gasps, grabbing Bo's hand out of the air. "Dude, dude—let's order pizza!" 

"Oh my god." Bo's eyes go comically wide as she clutches at Tamsin's hands. "Tamsin, you are a genius!" 

"Right?" Tamsin grins, her cheeks heating from the casual praise. 

"Double cheese!" Bo holds up her hand for a high-five, which Tamsin quickly delivers. 

Kenzi huffs and turns on her heel, stalking out of the room. Lauren moves to follow, but not before telling them to stay put.

"Get the pizza!" Bo calls after them. 

Tamsin picks up the sword she dropped, holding it up in an imitation of what she thinks a fighting stance looks like. " _En garde_!" 

Bo grins and grabs a sword of her own, holding it up to cross Tamsin's, and the battle is on.

***

Bo chews on the end of her pen, staring down at her partially-written poem. _What rhymes with heart? Smart, tart, fart_ —she snickers— _okay, no. Um…apart!_

Not to toot her own horn or anything, but Bo is pretty sure this is just about the best idea ever. Anyone can just _tell_ someone their secrets; it takes talent to put it into words that rhyme. She's glad Tamsin seemed to like the idea, too—she seems really cool. Why haven't they hung out like this before?

She's just adding the finishing touch to her poem when Lauren cautiously enters the room again. Bo's eyes widen as she clutches her paper to her chest. "Oh my god, Lauren, you can't just come barging in here! We're sharing super top secret stuff." 

"Um…sorry," Lauren says with an awkward shrug. She holds something up in her hand. "I just need a swab, and you can go back to your secrets."

Tamsin leans forward on her hands, grinning mischievously at Lauren. "Or you could tell us _your_ deepest darkest secret."

"Yes!" Bo gasps, latching onto Lauren's hand when she gets close enough. "Come on, come sit with us! I'll get you a pen!"

"No, I really—I just need that swab." Lauren tries in vain to pull free, but Tamsin and Bo tug at her arm, trying to wrestle her onto the bed. 

_Rip!_

Bo's jaw drops, and she lets go of Lauren's—now ruined—jacket. Lauren takes the opportunity to slip the swab into Bo's mouth, scraping against the inside of her cheek before quickly retracting it. As she scurries out of the room, Bo meets Tamsin's eyes and they both snicker. 

"Man, that was a really awesome jacket, too," Bo says mournfully, glancing toward the doorway Lauren just disappeared through. She almost feels guilty, but really—would it have been so horrible to just sit down and hang out with them for a little while?

"Yeah." Tamsin nods, sliding back to her spot on the bed. She looks down at her sheet of paper and chews on the inside of her cheek. "Oh, I um…I finished my poem."

Butterflies flutter in Bo's stomach as she looks down at her own. "I guess mine's done too. So now we trade?"

"Uh huh."

Biting her lip, Bo takes Tamsin's poem in trembling fingers and holds out her own. Her heart leaps into her throat as Tamsin takes it and starts reading.

***

When Tamsin is finished reading, she looks up to see Bo peering nervously at her. "It's stupid, right?"

"No, I liked it," Tamsin says quickly. She blushes when she thinks of how much she liked it. It had romance, and drama, and a yearning so stark and deep that it made Tamsin's chest ache. She's not sure why anyone would be afraid of Bo, though—she's so awesome. Tamsin bites her lip and adds, "a lot."

The bright smile that springs to Bo's lips does funny things to Tamsin's stomach. "Yours was really beautiful…in a way." Bo sounds uncertain, and Tamsin has a moment of heart-clenching panic— _she hated it_ —but then Bo continues, and Tamsin realizes that the sorrow in Bo's eyes is for _her_. "But it was…really, really sad. I wish there was something I could do to help you."

Tamsin shakes her head, looks down at the bed. If she just ignores how much it hurts, maybe the ache will ease. "You can't help me. Nobody can." 

She's not even completely sure _why_ she's so sad, but she knows that it's serious, that there's no escape for her. It's a sorrow that feels old, way older than she can even imagine. Seeing Bo so heartbroken for her, though, is a fresher wound, and one she'd do anything to fix. Bo is so pretty when she smiles. Tamsin reaches down and plucks Bo's poem off of the bed and holds it up. "Our secret?"

Bo looks deadly serious as she picks up Tamsin's poem. "Cross my heart."

For a second they just look at each other, at the papers, and somehow they come to a wordless agreement. Tamsin nods, and they both crumple the pages at the same time, shoving them into their mouths. 

It's tough at first, and bland, but Tamsin powers through it. She can't bear the idea of Bo thinking of her as weak. It's not so bad after a bit; it gets moist and soggy and starts to dissolve, and finally she's able to swallow it. 

When they're both done, their eyes meet and Tamsin can't contain a giggle. What did she just _do_? Bo laughs too, and her laughter becomes giddy and contagious, and soon they're both falling sideways onto the bed, clutching their stomachs as their faces turn bright red. 

"Water," Bo gasps when their laughter subsides. She rolls off of the bed and stumbles over to her dresser where a water bottle awaits. 

Tamsin lies back, folding her arm under her head as a pillow. Her other hand stays on her stomach; she's laughed so much today that she's going to be sore for a week. She can't remember the last time she did that. Well, she can't remember a lot of things, but she thinks it's been a long, long time. It feels…nice, being so happy.

The mattress dips as Bo climbs back on. Tamsin shakes the heavy thoughts from her head as she sits up, reaching for the water Bo is offering. She unscrews the cap and brings the bottle to her lips, tilting her head back as she takes a long drink. Her stomach flips as she realizes that Bo's own mouth was touching the plastic that's now pressed against her own. It's almost like they're kissing—she wants to chuckle at the thought, but it just twists her insides into tighter knots and she nearly chokes on the water in her throat. 

When she lowers the bottle, Tamsin realizes Bo is watching her. Like, _really_ watching her. She laughs nervously. "What?"

Bo bites her lip, and for a second Tamsin swears her eyes flash blue. "You're really pretty." 

Warmth floods Tamsin's cheeks. She looks down at the water bottle, fiddles with screwing the cap back on. "Not as pretty as you." 

There's a long, heavy silence, and when Tamsin peers up it looks like Bo is struggling to say something. Suddenly, despite the water she just drank, Tamsin's mouth is unbearably dry. 

"Have you ever kissed a girl?" Bo finally asks.

Tamsin's pulse pounds in her ears. It's like Bo read her thoughts before. "I don't think so," she says with a too-casual shrug. "Why, have you?"

Bo smiles and shrugs, shaky and nervous. "Same."

"Do you, um…" Tamsin trails off, swallows hard. "Did you want to try it?" 

She dares to glance up at Bo, and her heart freezes in her chest as Bo slowly nods. Breathing feels like trying to play tug of war with a professional wrestler, like the lump in Tamsin's throat is pushing the air away faster than she can pull it in. Bo leans forward on her hands—Tamsin tries to ignore the view it gives her, but her eyes flick down before she can stop them—and then she feels Bo's breath hot and quick on her lips. 

It's dry, soft, warm. Tamsin is afraid to move, afraid to breathe. She closes her eyes so she can focus on the gentle pressure of Bo's lips. Her hands clench into fists in her lap as Bo presses harder. Something that sounds like a moan gets caught up in Bo's throat, vibrates against Tamsin's mouth, and then it feels like something is reaching inside of Tamsin and tugging at the deepest parts of her. 

Bo pulls back in shock, and this time her eyes are definitely blue. "Man, what are you?"

Giddiness bubbles up in Tamsin's throat as she stares back, wide-eyed. "Dude…that was all you." 

"That was so dope." Bo's eyes have faded back to brown, but she's looking at Tamsin's lips like she wants to devour them. Tamsin kind of wants to let her. "Let's do it again." 

It felt weird, whatever Bo did before, but it also felt _really_ good. Tamsin definitely wants to feel it again. She's barely able to nod, her answering "Okay" swallowed up by Bo's mouth. 

One of Bo's hands comes up to cup Tamsin's cheek, hot and clammy. Tamsin whimpers at the first hesitant swipe of Bo's tongue, parts her lips to welcome more of it. She feels that pull again, reaches for Bo's shoulder to steady herself. Bo's skin is soft under her fingers, and almost hot—hotter the longer the kiss goes on. 

Bo gets bolder, climbing onto Tamsin's lap without parting their mouths. Tamsin is vaguely aware of fingers scrabbling at her back, tugging up the edge of her shirt. The air is cool against her back, a stark contrast to the heat of Bo's hands. Tamsin feels like she should be self-conscious or something, but whatever Bo is doing to her feels too good to focus on anything else. 

Actually, it's getting hard to even focus on that. Spots dance across the inside of her eyelids, her head feels heavy and thick, but she can't bear the thought of pulling away. Her hands fall from where they've settled on Bo's hips, too heavy to hold up any longer. 

The last things Tamsin is aware of are the warmth of a hand on the back of her neck and the cool press of a pillow to her cheek.

***

Bo watches anxiously as Tamsin sleeps. That weird hunger is still gnawing at her from the inside, but she's been able to keep it at bay somehow. Having Tamsin to worry about helps—Bo still doesn't know what she did to Tamsin, if she'll even wake up from this sudden sleep. She's still breathing, at least; Bo pulled the comforter up over Tamsin's chest to keep herself from getting overwhelmed by hunger, and she's been watching it rise and fall at a steady pace ever since.

After what feels like forever, Tamsin finally starts to stir. Her eyes flutter open and seek out Bo's. "Did I fall asleep?" 

"For a little bit." Bo nods guiltily. 

"Oh my god." Tamsin slaps her hand over her eyes as her cheeks flush pink. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Bo is quick to reply, reaching out to lay a hand on Tamsin's knee. "I think it was my fault. Whatever that was, I couldn't turn it off. I'm just glad you're okay." 

"Mm…fine. A little groggy." Tamsin lowers her hand, clutches the blanket to her chest as she pushes herself back up to a sitting position. She peers up at Bo with a shy smile. "It felt really good though."

Bo returns the smile, ducks her head in agreement. "Yeah, it did."

Tamsin's teeth worry at her lower lip. "Maybe we could try it again? You know, without the whole energy-sucking, me-passing-out thing." 

Hunger spikes in Bo's chest, and she forces it down. It's weird; she doesn't know what this strange power is, but she's pretty sure she can control it. Especially if it means she gets to kiss Tamsin again. She grins as she leans closer. "I think that can be arranged."

It's easier this time, less nerve-wracking. Tamsin's mouth melts under Bo's, her hands growing bold and tangling in Bo's hair. Bo slides her tongue out and it's met with Tamsin's own, slick and hot and irresistible. She dares to nibble at Tamsin's lip and savors the surprised moan that gets strangled in Tamsin's throat. 

They're both so caught up that neither notices Lauren walking in—at least, not until Bo feels something sharp jab into her back. 

"Ow!" Bo tries to jerk away, but Lauren is quick. The liquid in the syringe burns as it's forced into Bo's skin. Lauren pulls away when she's done, and Bo's vision starts to blur. Memories flood into Bo's mind, circling and crashing into one another. She closes her eyes, holds her hands to her temples like she can slow her thoughts down if she presses hard enough.

Distantly, she can hear Tamsin cry out in protest as she's injected as well. Gradually the whirlwind in Bo's mind subsides. She knows what she is again, knows how old she is, but she's starting to forget why they're here, why Tamsin is here, and—oh shit, is Tamsin _topless_?

Bo looks up at Lauren, wide-eyed and panicked. "I swear, Lauren, I have no idea—"

"It's okay, Bo." Lauren smiles tightly, shakes her head. "I'll explain everything later." 

"What the—" Tamsin's voice is groggy, confused—then everything falls into place for her too. Horror fills her eyes as she looks at Bo, then down at her bra-clad chest. "Oh, _shit_ no." 

As Tamsin scrambles off of the bed, Lauren turns to Bo. "I'm going to go downstairs and help Kenzi with the—the man-pig-things. Come down when you're ready, but Bo—don't take too long. We really need you." 

Still a little dazed, Bo slides off of the bed. Now that she can think clearly again, she can hear shouting and fighting downstairs. _Weapon. I need a weapon._ Her eyes fall on Tamsin, and a strange flash of empathy jolts through her. "Tamsin—"

"Don't even," Tamsin hisses, yanking her shirt back on over her head. "I have no idea what the hell happened here, but it's almost undoubtedly your fault." 

"Hey," Bo snaps. Silly her, thinking Tamsin actually had some kind of redeeming quality hidden under all of that bitchiness. "I am just as in the dark about this as you." 

"Whatever." Tamsin storms over to snatch her jacket off of one of Bo's dressers, then whirls around. "This—whatever _this_ is—never happened. Got it?" She doesn't wait for Bo to nod before she storms out. 

"Okay," Bo exhales, shaking her head. Now to the task at hand: man-pigs. She pulls a dagger out of her weapons chest, tosses the scabbard aside. "Time for Mama to bring home the bacon."

***

"So it's all just a big ol' blank?" Kenzi asks, bringing her drink to her lips with her newly-staffless hand.

Bo turns her beer in her fingers, slowly nods. "But fuzzy, like…like there's something there, but why can't I remember?"

Kenzi snorts. "If it involves gettin' all snuggly with Detective Snarky McBitchpants, I'd think you'd be happy to forget." 

"Yeah…" Bo says thoughtfully, eyes fixed on her beer. She's been trying to get back that easy hatred of the rude, bitchy Dark fae cop that has such a hard-on for getting her arrested, but something keeps holding her back. She feels like they must have connected somehow, but she can't for the life of her remember it. 

"Well speak of the devil." Kenzi takes another sip of her drink, her gaze shifting toward the door. 

Tamsin walks in with all of her usual swagger, the cool detached persona fixed firmly in place. She heads toward the bar, then freezes when her eyes fall on Bo and Kenzi. 

For an instant, Bo feels hunger flare up inside of her—a strange, specific kind of hunger, like when she wants Piles-O-Pecans ice cream and plain old chocolate just isn't going to cut it. 

After shooting Bo an icy glare, Tamsin turns abruptly, veering toward the pool table with her back pointedly turned to the bar. 

Bo sighs. "You're probably right. Who would want to remember getting up close and personal with _that_?" 

Kenzi raises her glass, clinks it against Bo's beer bottle. "Amen, sistah."


End file.
